Politics
by Pidraya
Summary: Ducky shoved a French policeman off a cliff in 1999 ... and as a result Jenny Shepard commandeered a boat for an escape across the Channel. Filling in the gaps for that particular story.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note:**

"_Did I ever tell you about the time I shoved a French police officer off a cliff?"_

"_There was a lake below."_

"_Yes. The man was all right. But they still issued a warrant for my arrest. Gibbs and I managed to keep two steps ahead of them. Eventually we escaped across the English Channel in a sailboat."_

"_You and Agent Gibbs were fugitives?"_

"_Yes, for a short while. Until a young upcoming NCIS agent had the charges dropped."_

"_Jenny. I mean, Director Shepard."_

"_She was the one who commandeered the boat."_

"_Director Shepard stole a boat?"_

- Ziva, Ducky, Tony, Palmer, and McGee in _**Smoked**_, Season Four.

The only problem with this is that there is apparently no such place with a 60 foot drop anywhere in France - but we'll pretend we didn't know that.

* * *

_**Jenny's apartment, Naples**_

_**Sunday, January 3rd, 1999**_

_**1145**_

The radio was playing so loud she almost didn't hear the phone ring.

"Miss me al -" she started to say. Until she realized it wasn't Jethro at the other end of the line. "I'll be there in twenty," she said as she dropped her towel and reached into her wardrobe for something to wear.

"Who'd you think I was?" Decker asked with a leery grin when she showed up in his office a short while later.

"What's going on?"

One of the first things she'd learned from Jethro was that the best way to deflect a question was to ask another one.

"Coffee?"

"You didn't bring me all the way here to offer me coffee," she said – her fingertips blanching as she pushed down onto his desk and put all of her weight on them.

"No," he admitted.

"So what couldn't wait till tomorrow?"

"Your career," he said with a smile. Enjoying seeing her eyes flash with with badly-disguised curiosity. "Michael Lewis flew in this morning."

"Who?" She racked her brain and felt a flash of irritation at herself for coming up empty.

She wasn't in the habit of not knowing who people were.

"That task force we were talking about?"

"Yes?"

"Michael Lewis is heading it up."

"He's here?" She stood a little straighter.

"Yup."

"How well do you know him?" She tried for nonchalant but knew that Decker could see right through her.

"Well enough to put in a good word for you."

He smiled as he saw her move a little closer.

"He's here to recruit," she said as the fact dawned on her. More of a statement than a question.

"Bingo. We did our control officer training together coupla years back. He owes me at least as much as talking to you first."

"How many other people on his list?" she asked as she tried to keep her eyes from widening.

"Two. He stopped here on his way to his new field office."

Jen perched on the side of his desk and accepted the cup of coffee he was holding out.

"What can you tell me?"

"They're going to be looking at opium and heroin coming from Afghanistan and Pakistan being converted to cash for weapons to support terrorist training camps."

Jenny's eyes snapped to his as she realized what the location of the new field office probably was.

"Middle East?"

Decker nodded.

"It'd be a hell of a promotion, Jen."

"Yeah." She sipped her coffee, her mind in a whirl.

"He's expecting you at his hotel in an hour. We'll grab some lunch and then I'll drive you over."

* * *

_**Anduze, Southern France**_

_**1300**_

Gibbs looked at his watch – wondering how much longer Ducky and his companion were going to be.

He'd declined the offer to go along on the sightseeing trip.

Although he'd been assured by their host that the views of the Gardon were breathtaking, cliffs and rock formations weren't his thing. He'd preferred to stay behind and enjoy the day of spare November sunshine. He poured himself another coffee he waited. Letting his thoughts drift to Jenny and what he would much rather be doing. With her.

The sound of a car door slamming was his first indication that they were back, but he wasn't quite expecting the vehemence of Ducky's tone when he appeared in the kitchen.

"What's up?" he asked. The slight tremor to Ducky enough to convince him that something wasn't right.

"We need to get to a police station, Jethro."

"Care to tell me why?" Gibbs' eyes narrowed.

"I believe a minor is being abused."

Gibbs looked at him in confusion – his mind scrambling to come up with a scenario where Ducky could have run into such a thing.

"Keep talkin'," he said. Putting his cup down on the counter as their host appeared in the doorway. He was shaking slightly as well – but in his case it was fear, not anger.

Ducky took a deep breath and started to relate the events of the past hour.

"_**What made you choose Anduze?"**_

_**His companion smiled.**_

"_**Anduze became a Huguenot hub in the seventeenth century. I came here on a tour in the late eighties, and was fascinated by the houses. Protestants weren't allowed into the village cemeteries, so many houses have their own. Some of them in remarkably good shape. One came onto the market around ten years ago that had a priest's hideout. I couldn't resist. I must show you when we get back. Voila' .. we are here."**_

_**Ducky sucked in a breath as the man pulled into a scenic overview.**_

"_**Very impressive," he said, pulling his coat around him as they stepped out into the Autumn air.**_

"_**Please watch yourself at the edge," the other man said as Ducky stepped up to it cautiously and peered over.**_

"_**Did a spot of rock climbing in my youth," the medical examiner said. "This would have been a wonderful challen -"**_

_**He was cut off by the sound of a raised voice. They turned their heads simultaneously in the direction of a car parked a few feet away.**_

"_**Fils de salope!" a young girl screamed hysterically as the door opened and she tumbled onto the ground. She jumped to her feet. "Nique ta mère," she shouted after the car as its wheels raised a dust cloud and it sped off. **_

"_**Excusez-moi." **_

_**The girl turned round, her arms wrapped tightly around herself; shock clearly beginning to set in.**_

"_**Ne me cause pas d'ennuis," she said haltingly as she stepped backwards.**_

_**Ducky stopped in his tracks. Aware that she wasn't conscious of the drop behind her.**_

"_**We only want to help," he said in English. Noting that her demeanour changed the moment she realised he was a foreigner. "My name is Donal -"**_

_**The screech of tyres indicated that the person who had tossed her out of the car had returned. As he sauntered over to them, the girl instinctively moved closer to Ducky.**_

"_**Embarquer dans la voiture!" the man hissed at the girl.**_

"_**Je ne veux p- "**_

"_**Ta gueule!" He grabbed her by the arm and propelled her roughly in the direction of the car.**_

_**She cast a pleading look at Ducky, and without thinking he laid a hand on the man's arm.**_

"_**Casse-toi!" The man shook him off.**_

_**For a moment Ducky reeled from the vulgarity, but the moment the man gripped the girl's arm again something in him snapped.**_

_**He wasn't sure exactly how it became a scuffle, but before he knew it the man had lunged at him. In the heat of the moment anger blinded him, and in his mind's eye all he could see was a young girl in need of protection. He realized too late that that the tussle was taking place at the edge of a precipice – and although he tried to pull the man back, once he'd thrown his full weight at him there was no way to stop him from going over the edge.**_

_**The girl started to scream. Stopping only when it became clear from the expletives rising from the water that the man was still very much alive. The girl shot him a fearful but determined look.**_

"_**Allez!" she said as an engine roared to life behind them. Clearly his companion had the same idea. "I will be fine," she added in English. "But you need to leave now. He is a dangerous man."**_

"You shoved a man off a cliff," Gibbs stated. Drawing each word out in disbelief.

"It was self-defence," their host intervened nervously.

"Enforced swim then," Gibbs said with a tight smile.

"It isn't funny, Jethro."

"Didn't say it was, Duck."

"We need to go to the nearest police station and -"

"Why'dya leave?"

"Dr. Mallard wanted to stay," their host said, "but I … I panicked."

"Uh-huh," Gibbs said as he reached for his jacket and headed for the door.

"Where are you going, Jethro?" Ducky asked irately.

"Damage control. I'll need directions," he said to the other man.

"But Jethro ..."

"No buts, Duck. You stay here till I get back. Pack your bags. Flight leaves in a coupla hours."

* * *

**Author's note:**

I would like, if I may, to make a reading recommendation.** 4sweetdreams** reposted her story _**Protection Detail**_ today. The first four chapters are up already. It's wonderfully written - and I think the story will be right up a lot of people's alley. Enjoy!


	2. Chapter 2

_**Author's note:**_

_HUMINT_ – human intelligence. It is defined as a category of intelligence derived from information collected and provided by human sources.

* * *

_**Grand Hotel Santa Lucia, Naples**_

_**1400**_

Lewis had been succint. She'd be out of the field for the most part, and when she _was _in the field she'd mostly be meeting with HUMINT operatives. Receiving the intel they'd gleaned from their sources. Learning how to assess the incoming intelligence. Disseminating it to the appropriate action officers.

_She'd be leaving field work behind to push paper_.

But there was no ignoring the fact that it was a promotion either. A promotion to senior field agent after a relatively short period of time. And while it crossed her mind that part of the reason she'd been shortlisted was because female quotas needed to be filled, she was not as bothered by it as another woman might have been. She was savvy enough to know that she needed to learn how to work through the administrative process; that she needed to hone those skills. She'd have to overlook the drudgery because it was part of the apprenticeship. She needed to work at _every _task if she wanted to make it as far up the ladder as she could. And there was no doubt in her mind that the top was where she needed to get if she wanted answers. If she wanted to be in a position to put the mysteries surrounding her father's death to rest.

She stepped out into the sunlight; her mind so full of thoughts that she could hardly keep them straight.

Decker was leaning against his car with a huge grin on his face.

"I hear it went well," he said as he waggled his phone at her.

"News travels fast." She gave him a wan smile.

"Let's just say you made a good impression. Hey … what's the matter? He didn't hit on you, did he?" Jen poked him in the arm and rolled her eyes. "_What then?_"

"It's a lot to take in, Will. Not least the fact that I'd have to move to Bahrain, I'd have to leave my team .."

Decker ran a hand through his hair and made a sound that was little short of derisive.

"I don't believe this shit! You have a shot at becoming a senior field agent after less than two years and you're worrying about what _Gibbs _is gonna think? You need to do what's best for _you_, Jen," he said as he opened the car door and ushered her into it. "Screw Gibbs!"

* * *

_**Anduze, France**_

_**1450**_

"Well?" Ducky asked as Gibbs walked back into the foyer.

"Nothin' there, Duck. Best guess, guy walked up the cliff, dried off, drove himself home."

"And the girl?"

"No sign of her either."

Ducky pulled himself up to his full height as he spoke.

"I haven't changed my mind, Jethro."

"Yeah?" Gibbs saw no point in concealing his irritation.

"I think it's for the best," their host said as he scrawled something hastily on a scrap of paper. "I have a friend who works at the Commissariat. His name is Andre' Lambert. Perhaps _he_ can help."

Gibbs relieved Ducky of the paper before the man had so much as looked at it, and his eyebrows rose as he took in the address.

"This is in Nîmes," he said.

"You're heading that way to catch your flight."

He looked closely at the man and took in the flushed look and the breathlessness.

The local _Gendarmerie_ would have sufficed.

Clearly they had outstayed their welcome and he wanted them as far from his home as possible.

He tossed his head at him in acknowledgement as he pocketed the piece of paper.

"Let's go," was all he said as he turned on his heel and walked out the door.

The medical examiner was uncharacteristically silent for the duration of the drive. Speaking only when Gibbs gave him a long and hard look as he eased the car onto Rue de Cirque Romain.

"Last chance to change your mind."

"It's the right thing to do."

"If you say so."

"Is your _gut_ telling you something?" Ducky asked light-heartedly.

"Yeah. That this is a mistake."

"I can't, in all good conscience, walk away from what might be the abuse of a minor." All traces of levity were gone now. "She couldn't have been more than fifteen, Jethro."

Gibbs nodded as he merged with traffic in Rue de la République.

"Actually, before we get there I'd like to call Henri."

"Calling to apologize in the spirit of public relations?"

"Something like that. Wouldn't want him to change his mind about the _Morgan_."

"Knock yourself out." Gibbs swung into Rue de la Cité Foulc as he tossed his satnav phone into the older man's lap.

Ducky smiled at him as he punched in the numbers, but his smile faded fast the moment Henri's panicky voice came down the line at him.

"Duck?" Gibbs asked as he turned onto Rue Bourdaloue and progressed onto Rue Jeanne D'Arc. He slowed down as he watched the blood drain from his friend's face. "Talk to me, Duck," he said as the louvered windows of the buildings on Avenue Feuchères came into view.

"The police are looking for me," Ducky said.

Gibbs floored the gas pedal. Passing the Commissariat on the other side of the Avenue without so much as glancing at it. Turning left onto Avenue Talabot. Ignoring his companion until the D127 merged with the N86 and he felt comfortable dropping into the slow lane.

"How did they know where to find you?" He angled himself on the driver's seat as he spoke.

"The license plate on Henri's car led them to his house," Ducky said slowly. "The place was crawling with Gendarmes. I suppose the girl must have memorized it."

"Or the man you sent over the edge." Gibbs scrubbed a hand over his face. Pausing when he saw something in Ducky's eyes that he didn't like. "There's something you're not telling me."

"The man I sent over the edge was a Gendarme."

"You shoved a French _flic_ off a cliff?" Gibbs was incredulous.

"Apparently so."

He didn't sound particularly contrite, and Gibbs angled his head in amusement. Even if the amusement didn't last very long.

"What'd Henri tell them?"

"Everything, I presume."

"Yeah."

"What are you doing, Jethro?" Ducky asked as the agent pulled into a rest area. "We need to get to the nearest station so that we can clear up this mess."

"Callin' in the cavalry, Duck," Gibbs replied as he stepped out of the car, the phone already to his ear.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Castel Sant'Elmo, Naples**_

_**1540**_

It wasn't quite how she'd been expecting to spend the afternoon, Jen thought as she looked outwards. But Decker was keeping his hands to himself, and she was enjoying the view. After navigating a narrow tangle of one-way streets, they'd reached the thirteenth century castle. One coffee later they'd braved the castle top. The view of the bay of Naples, the isle of Capri, and Sorrento were breathtaking, but it was Mount Vesuvius which held her attention.

Even in the rapidly-fading light it was an impressive sight.

"Ever been to Malta?"

It took her a moment to realize that Decker was talking to her.

"_What?_"

"Malta," he repeated. "There's a fort there too called Saint Elmo. Smaller than this one, similar star formation."

"We have a field office there, don't we? I've never been. You?"

"Yeah. Was there a few wee-"

He trailed off as Jen's phone went off, and watched as she walked away to take the call; admiring the way the heels she was wearing gave her calves definition, until he figured he'd best not be caught looking.

"Hey .." she said gently.

"Where are you?" The abruptness was enough to tell her that something was wrong.

"Saint Elmo's Castle."

"Decker with you?" She didn't try to hazard a guess about how he knew, but there was no reason to lie.

"Yes."

"Good. Here's what I need you to do ..."

Decker could tell something was wrong just from the change in body language.

"What is it?" he asked as she walked back to him.

His senses immediately on high alert.

Jen looked back at him with wide eyes and handed over the phone.

"Jethro and Ducky need an extraction."

* * *

_**Along the N86, France**_

_**1640**_

Ducky drummed his fingers on his knee nervously as he looked out of the window again. He had no doubt Jethro would be back, but there was something very unsettling about sitting in a dark rest area, alone with the knowledge that he was a wanted man.

He wound the window down in relief when Gibbs tapped on it.

"How much money you got?"

"French or American?"

"French."

"Dare I ask what for?"

"Come on, Duck, whatcha got?"

"Four thousand francs," Ducky said as he rummaged through his wallet.

"Gimme three and get outta the car."

"What exactly is it that we're doing, Jethro?"

"Ditchin' the car, hitchin' a ride."

"Who exactly are we hitching a ride with?"

Gibbs smiled.

"Truck driver goin' north."

* * *

_**Naples Field Office**_

_**1900**_

Jenny sighed as she put down the phone. With every source she tapped the story grew uglier and more convoluted. She exhaled as she cracked her eyelids, and then closed her eyes briefly.

Resting her head in her hands.

"I thought they were looking at a car."

She looked up to find Pacci placing a cup of coffee on her desk, and the look of annoyance on his face made her want to laugh.

"Right," she said as she lifted the cup to her lips and took a long draw.

"Callen's on his way in."

"Okay."

"What've we got so far?" he asked as he shucked off his coat and settled onto a chair next to her.

"I don't have all the details, but the French authorities are claiming he pushed a Gendarme off a cliff in the Languedoc."

"Ducky. In a fist fight," Pacci clarified slowly. Hardly able to believe what he was hearing.

"Apparently."

"And now the police want to talk to him?"

"They've issued a warrant for his arrest," Decker said as he walked up to them.

"What about Gibbs?" Pacci asked.

"They've got nothing on him, but their rental was found in a rest area off the N-86 about twenty minutes ago. We're under immense pressure to co-operate."

"Have you tried calling his satellite phone?" Callen asked as he joined them.

Decker shook his head.

"They're on their own now. Jethro knows to follow protocol. _He'll_ call _us_. Jenny, anything?"

"Nothing good."

"This Gendarme got a name?" Pacci asked as he looked over the notes she'd taken.

"Hugo Pellegrain," she replied. "He's the nephew of Vincent Pellegrain."

"I take it that's a bad thing?" Callen asked warily.

"Vincent Pellegrain works for the Ministry of the Interior. He's the _Directeur de Cabinet._"

Pacci gave a low whistle. "So basically he's .."

"In charge of the whole _cabinet ministeriel_?" Jenny finished for him. "Yeah. He's a direct appointee of the Minister. This is g-"

The phone on her desk rang – making her jump slightly.

She picked it up, and her eyes immediately snapped to Decker's.

"_What?_" he asked after she'd concluded a conversation in rapid French that he'd barely been able to follow.

"I think we just got our leverage," she said quietly as she replaced the receiver.

* * *

_**Highway A31, France**_

_**2155**_

Ducky woke up with a start.

"Where are we?" he asked as he peered blearily out of the window.

"Almost there."

"_There_ being ..."

"Dijon."

"Ah. La Bourgogne." His pronunciation was so flawless that the truck driver turned his head. "It is rather a pity that we will not have time to sample some _vin blanc cassis_. More commonly known as _Kir_."

"Kir?" Gibbs leaned his head back against the seat as Ducky told his story.

Glad he could distract himself.

"Félix Kir a hero of the French Resistance during World War II. A priest. He served as the Mayor of Dijon from 1945 until his death, and was single-handedly responsible for the creation of the apéritif known as _Kir._"

"Uh-huh."

"Yes, you see he took a white burgundy wine .."

"I thought Burgundy was a red wine .."

Ducky gave a small exasperated huff.

"You need to get out of your basement more often, Jethro."

Gibbs chuckled. "So he mixed .."

"White burgundy with crème de cassis."

"Which is .."

"A blackcurrant liqueur. One part crème de cassis to four parts white wine. He served it at all official functions. It really is rather delicious. _And_ the drink of choice of Hercule Poirot."

"Who?"

"Never mind." Ducky sank lower in his seat and nodded discreetly at the driver. "You haven't told me how you managed this, Jethro. You can barely speak enough French to order a coffee."

"Money talks, Duck," Gibbs said with a small smile.

A look of worry swept Ducky's features.

"Jethro ..."

"Jenny's on it. It'll be fine."

He'd briefed her summarily over the phone, and had no doubts that she and Decker would handle this.

He let his thoughts drift to her for a moment – and found himself wondering what she was doing.

* * *

_**Naples**_

Decker slammed the door to his office so hard the jamb shook.

"Are you out of your goddamn mind?"

Jenny stared at him impassively.

"I can do this, Will."

Decker paced round the room, running a hand through his hair.

"It's blackmail."

"It is _not_ blackmail," she replied. "It's a trump card. If negotiations don't go well I will pull it out of my sleeve. Pellegrain's been molesting young girls all of his adult life. Either way -"

She looked up to find Decker standing in her personal space.

"This isn't about Ducky," he spat. "This is about Gibbs."

"This is about trying to avoid an international incident," she said as she shook his hands off her shoulders.

"Jenny, if you do this you can kiss the promotion goodbye."

"If I pull this off it'll be a feather in my cap," she shot back. "And I _can_ do this."

"And if you _can't_ pull it off?"

"Then we'll do it Jethro's way."

"You're going to throw your career away over a two-bit ex-marine," he said derisively.

"I wouldn't be going rogue."

Decker's eyes blazed with an anger she wasn't accustomed to seeing aimed at her, but she stood her ground. Damned if she was going to let a chance like this pass her by. Not when Jethro and Ducky were out there in the night somewhere and she could put her people skills to use.

"This is a very bad idea, Jen."

"That's not for you to decide," she said as she picked up the telephone receiver and held it out. "Now, are you going to help me or not?"

"Under protest," Decker said as he snatched the phone.

"Your reluctance is duly noted," she said. Careful to keep the resentment out of her tone as she watched him punch in the numbers of the Special Agent in Charge.

"Gibbs is going to blow a gasket," Pacci said when she emerged from the office a good hour later.

Jen fixed him with a determined look.

"It's easier to seek forgiveness than ask permission," she reminded him before she turned to Callen. "That's rule number eighteen, by the way."

"So now what?" the young agent asked as she started to pack things into a briefcase.

Jen looked once in the general direction of Decker's office, and lowered her voice as she spoke.

"You guys make sure we have a Plan B."


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's notes:**

In an earlier story, **Captain James Callahan **made an appearance as the head of the MEU(SOC) unit responsible for extracting Gibbs et al., from Serbia.

Callahan wasn't supposed to reappear but, well, I liked him. So he's coming out to play again.

**Capodichino (LIRN) **- an airport open to both civilian and military traffic. The _Navy Air Terminal _is located here, and the U.S Naval Support Activity/Naples Commanding Officer are responsible for the clearance and operation of all aircraft using the U.S Navy ramp.

On a more personal note, thank you,** Gee**.

* * *

_**Naval Air Terminal, Capodichino**_

_**Monday, January 4th, 1999**_

_**0500**_

"You're still in time to change your mind," Decker said as he held a cup of coffee hostage.

"I have no inte - " Jenny trailed off as she caught sight of a familiar figure over this shoulder. "James?"

James Callahan tugged at his collar as Jen took in his uniform.

"Reassignment," he said when her eyes questioned him. "Air Operations Commander."

"And you're ..."

"Goin' along for the ride," he said as he fell into step beside her. "Crew assessment," he added with a shrug as they stood in line and handed their documents over for inspection.

"Right," Jenny replied as his boarding pass was checked against the manifest.

She shivered as they walked out into the frigid morning air - and fought the small wave of panic as a small plane came into view.

"You okay?" Callahan asked, taking her by the elbow and stopping her in her tracks.

"Fine."

"Okay, we'll talk later. Gotta get this show on the road if we want to keep our slot."

Behind her, Decker cleared his throat.

"Jen -"

"We'll be in touch," she said as she stepped aside for Callen to board the plane.

"I was going to say _good luck,_" Decker said as he leaned forward unexpectedly and kissed her cheek.

"Thanks." She restrained herself from shuddering.

"Got everything? Satellite phone, contact numbers .."

"Yes."

"Jenny .." He pulled her back as she placed her foot on the first step. "Be careful."

"Sir …" a voice to his left gave her the opportunity she needed to extricate herself from his grasp, and she disappeared quickly into the aircraft.

"Yeah?" Decker turned towards the ground staff.

"You'll need to watch take off from the terminal building."

"Sure."

He knew the drill. The ramp pass would only allow him to see his colleagues onto the plane. He gave a slight wave as the door was pulled up, but his smile was tight as he turned on his heel.

And so was his voice, twenty minutes later, when his phone rang just as the plane was lifting off.

"Jethro ..."

* * *

_**Dijon, France**_

"Jethro?" Ducky was startled into consciousness by the sound of something clattering against a table top.

"We need to move, Duck."

"Move? Has there been some … _development_?" the medical examiner asked warily as he realized the object Gibbs had skittled across the table was the phone.

"Apparently so."

"Am I going to have to guess?"

"Jenny and Callen are on their way to France," Gibbs said tersely as he pulled on his overcoat.

"France is a big place, Jethro. Surely _they're_ not -" He trailed off as he watched his friend's expression grow darker.

Gibbs scowled as Decker's last words replayed in his head.

_**"Car waiting for you at number 24 Avenue de Stalingrad. Next check in will be in four hours. I'll have more for you then. Get the car, start driving, keep a low profile."**_

"Get dressed," he said curtly. "We need to go."

"It would help if you told me where we were _going_."

"Paris." Gibbs' eyes narrowed as he contemplated the only reason he could think of that Jenny was headed there, but Ducky's widened.

"That's almost two hundred miles away, Jethro."

"Then we'd best get moving."

* * *

_**En route to Paris**_

_**0630**_

A smile danced on Jenny's lips as James Callahan lowered himself into the seat next to hers.

"What?" he asked.

"Jethro doesn't believe in coincidences," she began as she patted his arm, "and neither do I."

Callahan smiled broadly.

"Heard NCIS put in a request for a flight to france."

"And you got curious?"

"Hell yeah."

"So are you _really_ doing a crew assessment?"

"Informal pilot qualification. Had to have _some_ excuse to come along."

Jenny chuckled, and then asked, "miss your old job?"

"Sometimes," he replied with a shrug before making himself a little bit more comfortable in the seat. "So … where's Jethro? You leave him behind for this one?"

Jenny's smile faded.

"I knew it," Callahan said with half a snort. "What's he done _now_?"

Jen looked around. Someone she didn't know was sitting two rows behind them. Someone from the military on his way to some meeting or other, she assumed. "It's not Jethro," she said in low tones. "It's Ducky."

"Dr. Mallard the medical examiner? So .." he added when Jenny nodded.

"He .. may have pushed a Gendarme off a cliff."

Callahan did a double take.

"Ducky," he repeated. "Dr. Mallard. With his mild manners and his tea. Pushed a Gendarme of a cliff .."

Jen smiled in spite of herself. "Yes."

"So where's Jethro?"

"With him. They were over there looking at a car when it happened."

"Ducky pushed a gendarme of a cliff," Callahan repeated slowly. "I thought I'd heard them all." He smiled at the crew member who handed him a cup of coffee, and then turned his attention back to Jen. "So what now?"

Jen faltered. Not sure how much to tell him and yet very aware that having his experience and help at her disposal could only be a good thing. Her mind made up, she looked round again to make sure that the gentleman behind them wasn't taking an interest in their exchange.

"A warrant has been issued for his arrest," she whispered. "He and Jethro are in Dijon."

"And you're hoping to .."

"Get the charges dropped."

"So why's the probie goin'?" he asked as he indicated Callen to their left. "On the job training?"

Jenny considered her response for a moment.

"Insurance," she said with a smile.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Rue Saint-Didier (16th Arrondissement), Paris**_

_**0930**_

Callahan heard the tap of stilettos coming down the staircase before he saw their owner – but just from the heavy tread he knew things hadn't gone well.

It was too soon for this kind of negotiation to be over. Unless she'd lost her cool and been asked to leave. And somehow he doubted she buckled easily under pressure.

"What happened?" he asked when she came into view.

Jenny's lips were so tightly compressed that he almost couldn't see them.

"Seems they forgot to tell us that the meeting has been moved. _To Le Havre_."

"What's in Le Havre?"

Jenny cringed internally at the way he butchered the name, but merely said, "w_ho_ is in Le Havre. The man I was supposed to meet. They swore up and down that they'd informed us that the meeting place and the time had been shifted."

"What are you going to do?" Callahan asked.

"Go to Le Havre." She looked intently at him as she made her request. "Can you get me there, James?"

"What time's the meeting?"

"In an hour."

"We won't make it in time. Le Havre's at least two hours away."

"I don't have a choice."

Callahan nodded as he took her by the elbow and ushered her out of the building; pulling his cell phone from his pocket with his free hand.

"Need a favour," he growled into it. "What about Callen?" he asked when he'd hung up.

"Callen is meeting our contact in a few hours. We'll see him back here later."

"Right, lets go," Callahan said sharply as he steered her across the busy road. "Transport will be at the _Parc des Buttes Chaumount_ in ten."

* * *

_**Quai de la Marine, **__**Le Havre**_

_**Noon**_

Jenny was out of the car even before Callahan had brought it to a complete stop.

As she hurried inside it struck her that for a Monday morning in this location, the building was eerily quiet. Her first glimpse of the person manning the front desk dashed any hopes she might have had for a productive meeting entirely.

It didn't take long to ascertain that the person she'd been slated to meet wasn't there. Defensiveness radiated from the man in front of her, and the only descriptors running through her head as he spoke were _officious_ and _smarmy._

It was not a happy combination.

"Your meeting was scheduled for an hour and a half ago."

"At the Colonel couldn't wait?"

"He was called away." She looked behind him. Trying to assess just which one of the offices the Colonel was hiding in. Or whether he'd simpy gone for brunch.

"How convenient. Did he leave a message for me?"

"No."

For a moment she wondered whether she would spark a _real_ international incident if she smacked the smug smile off his face. The way he was blatantly appreciating her assets wasn't doing much for her mood either. She'd probably get more from him if she flashed him, she thought. But she'd come too far to give up, and she had no intention of settling for anything less than what she'd come for. People like this, the red tape generators, only served the purpose of making her want to dig her heels in. She smiled at the appropriateness of the idiom as she leaned over the desk and pushed his phone towards him.

"If you can't help me, please find someone who can."

The sweetness of sarcasm in her tone was hardly lost on the man, but he merely licked his lips and pushed the phone back to its original spot.

"You can always come back tomorrow," he replied with a shrug. "He might be here then."

Might. He _might_ be here then. As Callahan had anticipated on the way over, this was a waste of time.

They were being fobbed off.

Jenny's eyes narrowed fractionally, but then she smiled and nodded.

"Tomorrow," she said as she turned to go.

She'd walked a few paces from the desk when she heard the muttered "_piss off_" - and the desire to turn around and fire something back was strong to the point of being overwhelming. But Ducky's face rose in her mind. And with it the awareness that she needed to let the remark slide. One of the most valuable lessons she'd learnt to date was that she needed to pick her battles. Sometimes you lost the battle and won the war. She could only hope that it would work out this way this time.

She balled her hands into fists of suppressed anger and kept walking.

Callahan pushed himself off the wall when she stepped out into the pale sunshine, and grimaced when she shook her head at him.

"What do you want to do now?" he asked.

"I need to check in with Decker," she said as she looked at her watch.

Not a phone call she was looking forward to - even if she wasn't about to admit it to the man beside her.

* * *

_**Naples Headquarters  
**_

_**1300  
**_

Decker took the coffee cup Pacci was holding out and exhaled sharply.

"Where the hell is Leon? Wasn't he due back in this morning?"

"Dunno," Pacci said with a shrug. "I thought he was landing last night, but I heard they got a few inches in Chicagee. Maybe his flight was delayed."

"See if you can find out."

"Right." He was just about to pick up the receiver when the phone began to ring.

"Chris Pacci," he said. Grabbing Decker by the arm as the man was walking away. "Gibbs! Where are you?"

He hit the speakerphone button before joining Decker at the pin up board.

"Just outside Reims."

Decker's face contorted slightly as he ran his fingers over the map, but he said nothing.

"Where's Shepard?" Gibbs growled.

"Le Havre."

"Doing _what?_"

There was silence for a long beat before Pacci said, "negotiating."

"Put Decker on the phone."

Pacci's eyes snapped to the man beside him, but Decker simply pushed the button one more time and shook his head.

"Tell him I'm in a meeting," he said quietly.

Pacci felt a small bead of sweat erupt at his temple as he spoke.

"I'm not sure where he is. Things are … complicated at the moment."

"_How complicated?_"

"Find a place to stay and keep your heads down complicated."

The line went dead, and Pacci let out a laboured breath as looked at Decker.

"This isn't going to end well, Will."

"Hey, what he doesn't know ..." Decker began.

"Can't hurt us."

"Right. Find Leon and tell him to get his ass in here."

Pacci watched as Decker walked away. Caught between wanting to call him back and tell him what else was going on - get his input even - and respecting Jenny's wishes to keep it from him. He loosened his tie a little bit; taking a long swallow of his coffee as his eyes ran over the map again.

Three agents, four friends.

Two near Reims, one in Paris, one in Le Havre.

He was pretty sure he knew what Jenny and Gibbs were up to, so he chose to turn his thoughts to Callen instead. He felt uneasy about what they were asking him to do, but at the same time glad Jenny had elected to assign the task of meeting the contact to _him_. She was rapidly proving to have an ability to read people. To know where their strengths lay and how to best to use them. And he supposed the kid had to start thinking of himself as a competent field agent sometime.

He levelled a long sigh as he picked up the phone again - and dialled Leon Vance's number.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Bar Lili la Tigresse, **__**Paris**_

_**1320**_

Callen smiled at the woman who let him in through the back door, and indulged momentarily in the fantasy that she was one of the topless dancers who graced the bar in the evening.

"Come," she said in French so clipped that he didn't have a clue what she was saying. She turned to him seconds later. "Are you coming or not?"

Callen followed her slowly through the bar. Everything was still boarded up, but as his eyes adjusted to the shallow lighting he made out a figure leaning against the bar.

"Do you want a drink?" the woman asked as she stepped behind the counter.

"White wine?" he said as he took stock of what the operative was drinking.

"Very well."

"Do you have my money?" the man asked even before he had settled on a stool.

Callen had just opened his mouth to respond when the young woman slipped a glass in front of him

"Here you go .. and stop looking at my breasts."

The man by his side sniggered.

"What's your plan?" Callen asked.

The Frenchman chuckled as he downed some of his white wine.

"Money first, my friend."

Callen considered his options. No doubt about it, money talked, but he wasn't ready to part with what he had so fast. Changing tack seemed to behove him better.

"Were you followed?

The Frenchman shot him a look of surprise.

"No."

"Are you sure?"

The false smile morphed into one of pure disdain – as though the idea that he might have been followed was preposterous.

"Certainly I'm sure. So .. why is this so important?" the man asked.

It was Callen's turn to smile.

"We need your services. That's all you need to know. Now talk!"

The Frenchman nodded.

"I want my money now."

"Half now and half after the job is done." That was what Jenny had suggested, and Callen didn't want to deviate from that.

"Half now and the other half before I pick up the men."

Callen thought about it. Wishing for a moment that he had someone to confer with. But there was no-one. He was alone in this, and the judgement call was going to have to be his.

"Talk," he said as he slapped an envelope on the counter.

* * *

_**Cafe' D'Hautvillers, **__**Hautvillers (not far from Reims)**_

_**1830**_

"I'm starting to suspect that there were more Jean-Pierres born in Reims than any other place in France," Ducky said with a chuckle as he looked through a brochure he had picked up at the entrance. "Colbert, Drouet, La Salle .."

Gibbs scowled as he shook his head at the pretty young waitress bringing a champagne sampler to their table.

"Out with it Jethro," the medical examiner said wearily when she had moved on "Whatever's on your mind, out with it."

Gibbs made a non-committal sound in the back of his throat and sliced off another piece of his steak.

"Well there's certainly something on your mind," Ducky persisted. "You know you make a very unpleasant travelling companion. I'm sure Jenny ..."

He smiled discreetly as Gibbs' eyes cut straight to his at the mention of her name.

He'd figured as much.

"This isn't what I had in mind, Duck."

"I imagine it isn't." The medical examiner couldn't resist smiling. "But I must say, I'm rather impressed. You know there are_ other_ ways of doing things."

"Not in my book."

"Yes, well it's certainly a change to the _shoot 'em first, ask questions later_ methods that _you_ tend to favour.."

Gibbs stared at him through angry eyes.

"You findin' any of this amusin', Duck?"

"What I find _amusing_, Jethro, is your surliness."

"Diplomatic channels aren't my thing."

"So it has nothing to do with the fact that _Jenny's_ handling this. "

"Your point?"

"I'm just trying to understand why this is bothering you so much," Ducky said carefully.

"Keep tryin' Duck. Keep tryin'."

* * *

_**Hotel Le Petit Vatel, **__**Le Havre**_

_**1900**_

Callen spread a creased map over the bed in the middle of the room and took a deep breath as Jenny and James Callahan moved in.

"I'm meeting Maurice _here_," he said as he placed his finger on it. "_Club Nautique et Plaisance du Havre_."

"Private marina?" Callahan asked.

"Yeah."

"And?" Jenny wanted to know.

"I pay him the other half of the fee before the pick up."

"Okay. Then what?"

"There's an oil terminal about thirteen miles north," Callen explained. Trailing his finger along the coast until he hit Antifer Le-Havre. "He plans to pick them up from there."

Callahan nodded as he reached for his jacket.

"You seem to have it under control. I have to get back to Paris. Flight leaves at eleven. You call me if you need me, you hear?" he said to Jenny as she walked him to the door.

"Thank you."

"No problem."

When he had gone Jenny looked at Callen.

"Nice job," she said with a warm smile.

"You gonna call Decker?" he asked as he saw her reach for her satellite phone.

"Gibbs," she replied.

But she wasn't smiling anymore.

She'd been dreading this moment for the past few hours, but it was something which couldn't be delegated.

The phone call was short. Terse. Partly because they talked in code, partly because they both had an audience; but mostly because he was angry. At her and the situation. When she put the phone away Callen looked curiously at her.

"Guess that didn't go too well," he said as she sank to the ground next to him.

"Remember what I told you about rule number eighteen?" she said with a smile which didn't reach her eyes.

"The only rule I remember is _always work as a team_."

"Yeah well, Gibbs seems to forget that one every now and then."

Callen went silent for a while. Content to watch Jenny as she rested her head back on the covers and immersed herself in her own thoughts.

"Something's on your mind," she said after a while. "I can hear you thinking. What is it?"

"Are you sleeping with Gibbs?"


	7. Chapter 7

_**Author's note: **_

All set, **Gee**.

* * *

_**Saint-Jouin-Bruneval, France**_

_**Tuesday, January 5th, 1999**_

_**1030**_

Ducky blew warm air over his hands before rubbing them together; wishing Jethro had left the engine running. In the half hour he'd been gone, the car had become very cold; and there was no guarantee he'd be returning any time soon. The novelty of being a wanted man had worn off. The constant moving from place to place was starting to get to him. And, to boot, Jethro had become little short of unbearable.

Concern for his team was at the forefront of his emotions, that much was clear. But it threatened to be overshadowed by the pent up anger in Jenny's regard - and Ducky wasn't quite sure he understood why.

This went beyond simple chauvinism, he was sure of it. She had taken an initiative. A remarkable one for one with so little experience. There was no doubt in his mind that she was laying her career on the line for them, because if this went south there would be hell to pay. But while he found it all rather admirable, Jethro clearly did not share the sentiment.

A blast of cold air swirled around him as Gibbs wrenched the car door open.

Several bags of supplies landed unceremoniously on Ducky's lap.

"I see we're going to be attracting cats for a while," he said as he peered into one of them and pushed several cans of tuna and sardines around.

"It was that or live bait," Gibbs muttered as he looked at his watch and pulled out the satellite phone.

Ducky shivered a little as he watched him punch in Decker's number. The relationship between the two men had been strained since the debacle in the Czech Republic, but never more so than now. Jethro's jaw was tense even before Decker answered, and his eyes narrowed into angry slits as the conversation unfolded.

"Where's Shepard?" he pushed towards the end.

"Still in Le Havre. Where are _you?_"

"Still in Rheims." Although he knew it was coming, the ease with which Jethro lied made Ducky raise an eyebrow.

"Stay there. Check in again in two hours."

"Is keeping him in the dark really a good idea, Jethro?" Ducky asked when he'd slipped the phone back into his pocket.

Gibbs turned the ignition key angrily, shrugging off the question, and suddenly Ducky understood.

Someone was taking risks for Jethro.

In a situation where he had no control over the proceedings.

Or the outcome.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back. Racking his brain to come up with a reason why this was such an important part of Jethro's psychological make up. He had two failed marriages and a career in the military to his name, but beyond that? He supposed the _nature_ of his military work might account for it, and yet he couldn't shake the feeling that he was missing something.

* * *

_**The ladies' room at Café La Galerne, Le Havre**_

_**1130**_

Jenny leaned back against the sink and scratched lightly at her scalp as she waited for Callen to answer.

"And?" he asked by way of greeting.

"Not available." The curse from the other end of the line made her smile a little. "You're on, G." She bent over and took a look under the stall doors before adding, "No more contact unless absolutely necessary. I think I'm being followed."

"Okay."

There was something about his voice which made her hesitate. Made her want to ask whether he had any lingering feelings of unease. But Callen needed to develop – just as she did. To hone his skills and come into his own as a field agent.

She owed him the self-confidence that grew from peer trust.

"I'll see you in Paris," she said. "1900."

When she'd put the phone away she splashed her face with cold water.

The fact that Plan A hadn't worked stung, and made all of her insecurities rise to the surface. Clinging to her like wet clothes and dampening her spirits. As she looked at herself long and hard in the mirror, she was plagued by the thought that she'd never been completely selfless in this endeavour. That perhaps this had never been about Ducky, but about an opportunity to make a name for herself.

The thought made her sick to her stomach and she forced herself to close her eyes and think of Jethro.

Of the fact that, angry or not, he was still out there.

Ultimately, Plan B had been her idea too, and what was important now was getting them both out of France.

* * *

_**The Oil Terminal at Le Havre-Antifer**_

_**1330**_

"You can't be serious," Ducky said as Gibbs eased the car inbetween two others and made to get out.

Gibbs flashed him an impassive look.

"What d'ya want me to do, Duck? Drop you off in front of it?"

"Well no, but …"

"Lets go," he said as he slung his kit bag over his shoulder. "Just .. blend in," he threw over his shoulder as he started walking in the direction of the terminal.

"_Blend in_," Ducky echoed irritably as he hurried to keep up.

"Look like you know where you're going."

"I know where I'm going, Jethro. That promontary over there. It's just a long walk."

He couldn't be sure, but he thought Jethro might have chuckled. Hell of a time for the man to remember he had a sense of humour.

* * *

_**Club Nautique et Plaisance du Havre**_

_**1410**_

The small fishing lures dangling from his floppy hat were beginning to annoy him, but Callen ignored them. A plastic fish stringer dangled from the right back pocket of his jeans, and as he moved slowly along the dock, he cast a lure nonchalantly into the water and reeled it in.

To the onlooker he merely seemed intent on catching his dinner, but his eyes never stopped moving between the various parts of the marina where traffic could come into view.

Maurice was ten minutes late, and Callen wondered uneasily whether he was going to show up at all. Desperate for something to take his mind off the possibility of a bust, he let his thoughts turn to Jenny instead. She hadn't answered his question about whether she was sleeping with Gibbs. They were close enough in age for him to feel comfortable asking, but in retrospect he should have known that she wouldn't have given him that kind of power over her. She'd just headslapped him lightly and changed the subject. There were no real indications that they were sleeping together, but he was almost sure it was the case.

Visions of them sneaking around at work made him grin – until he heard car doors slam shut in the parking lot.

He knew he was in trouble the moment he caught sight of the two men stalking towards the main gate. The only thing he could think of was that Maurice had somehow connected the dots, ratted him out to the authorities, and disappeared with the money.

It was a bitter pill to swallow, but there was no time to stand around feeling sorry for himself.

Many people had taken their boats up to be winterized, but there were still quite a few yachts in the marina. He slipped onto the closest one, pulled out his phone, and dialled Pacci's number.

* * *

_**Naples**_

_**1413**_

Chris Pacci was starting to become familiar with the feeling of nausea.

"Stay down and call me when you .. can." He trailed off as Decker moved into his line of vision.

"You planning on telling me what all the hushed conversations are about, or I am going to have to guess?" the man asked as Pacci put down the phone. "What's going on Chris?"

Pacci swallowed around the lump in his throat and said, "we've got a problem."

"_We?_"

"Yeah." He ran his hand over his mouth and led the way to the board.

"Callen's _here_ ..."

"Callen should be on his way to Paris with Jenny .." Decker interrupted.

"He's not. And Gibbs and Ducky .."

"Are in Reims."

"Are _here_," Pacci corrected said as he stabbed Le Havre-Antifer.

"Doing _what_?"

"Waiting for an extraction."

"Son of a bitch!" Any attempt at keeping things under wraps were blown the moment Decker slammed the ring folder he was holding against the nearest filing cabinet.

"Hey, what's going on?" Calhoun was the first one to sit up and take notice as Decker let loose a string of expletives.

"I knew this op was going to shit from the minute she said the words. Trying to avoid an international incident, my ass! I am not taking the blame for this mess, you hear me? Gibbs got you into this mess, he can get you out of it. Now take it from the top. I need to fill in the SAC."

Part of Pacci wanted to tell him Gibbs had been an unwilling participant in all of this. But Decker's dislike for the man had become a staple of their everyday lives, and he needed his support now. He had no doubt the Special Agent in Charge would deal with what Decker considered a totally unnecessary waste of assets later on, and that the fallout would be immense, but now was not the time to argue about who was responsible.

There were agents in jeopardy out there.

He watched Decker's eyes get angrier and angrier as he recounted Maurice's plan to pick Gibbs and Ducky up in a power boat after collecting the other half of his payment.

"And then what?" Decker snarled.

"He was planning to take them across the Channel."

"Son of a bitch," Decker repeated.

"What can we do from here?" Calhoun asked as he traced the space between Le Havre and Paris.

Decker let out another angry breath.

"There's nothing we _can_ do," Decker said as he let out another angry breath. "except wait."

* * *

_**Gare du Havre**_

_**1425**_

There was no longer any doubt in her mind. She was definitely being followed. The thought that the authorities probably believed she would lead them straight to their man put a smile on her face as she headed towards the platform, but the smile was wiped clean seconds later.

Two children whizzed past.

Causing her to lose her grip on the polystyrene cup in her hand.

"Pardon," their mother said apologetically as she brushed past, trying to catch up with them.

Jenny swore under her breath as she flicked the hot liquid from her wrist. She looked at her watch, determined that there was not enough time for a bathroom run, and swore again as she assessed the shoes and coat had borne the brunt of the splash. She wasn't worried about the shoes, but the coat was a different story. Without immediate attention those stains would not be coming out. She could only hope there was a decent rest room on the train - but from what she remembered that was unlikely. She was still muttering to herself when her phone went off – and just the sound of it made her heart start pounding.

She and Callen had agreed that there would be no further communication, so if he was calling it could mean only one thing.

Something had gone wrong.

But it wasn't Callen.

"Jen .." His voice was low and rough, and made her blood run cold.

* * *

_**Club Nautique et Plaisance du Havre**_

_**1428**_

The men were about two yachts away now.

Searching each and every one methodically.

Callen's thoughts strayed to Gibbs and Ducky, waiting for a pick up which hadn't taken place; to Jenny, on her way to Paris with no clue of what was going on; to Pacci in Naples, powerless to help. He reached for his ringing phone before it could give him away – but the damage was done. Jenny's voice came down the line as the men broke into a run towards the boat.

There was nothing for it except to take a deep breath and lower himself over the side.

* * *

_**A taxi en route to the Marina**_

_**1429**_

Jen stared at the phone as Callen's hushed "hello?" gave way to dead air – and then instructed the driver to step on it.

Thoughts scrambled for purchase in her head. For some reason the pick up hadn't taken place; after all this planning and subterfuge Jethro and Ducky were sitting on a jetty a few miles north, totally exposed; the man on her tail was probably right behind her; all of this would come out in the inevitable inquiry.

She tried Callen's number again.

This time he didn't pick up.


	8. Chapter 8

_**Club Nautique et Plaisance du Havre**_

The yacht rocked violently as the men clambered aboard; creating a subsurface ripple which forced Callen deeper into the water to maintain his cover.

The icy coldness of the Channel waters stung his eyes as he opened them, and he reached blindly for the rope anchoring the yacht. He hung on as he struggled against the need to breathe, but as the seconds ticked by he started to lose sense of whether he was sinking or rising. The murkiness of the water afforded a measure of protection, but bubbles churning to the surface would give him away. He forced himself not to exhale as the sounds of the world receded slowly - but then suddenly he was scrambling.

Fighting for breath.

His head broke the surface on what he hoped was the right side of the boat, but as he sucked air into his battered lungs, salty water invaded them as well.

Making him fight again.

This time against the need to gasp and splutter.

As his vision cleared, the boat rocked one more time; telling him he was in the clear.

He treaded water alongside the boat, listening to one of the men muttering angrily into what he assumed was a phone.

Pulling himself up onto the dock when they were gone, he patted himself down for his - and swore when he realized it was dead.

"_We've arriv - shit!_"

The taxi driver swerved to avoid the car pulling out savagely onto Boulevard Clemenceau, and as she craned her neck to catch a glimpse of its occupants, Jenny felt her heart start beating double time. There was no doubt the car had come from the same place she was going, and it did nothing to reassure her that Callen hadn't met an untimely end.

She couldn't believe things had gone to hell in a hand basket like this after all the meticulous planning they'd done.

"Thanks," she said, tossing a handful of francs onto the front seat on her way out of the taxi.

The last vestiges of salt water dribbled from Callen's mouth as he lay flat on the dock. He felt cold and slightly nauseous, and was having trouble separating the noises around him.

A car door slamming in the distance, his own harsh breathing, something which sounded like a kicker engine.

All heightened by the vibrating dock.

For a moment he thought Maurice had come through. The sound was all wrong though, and as he rolled onto his side he blearily made out the figure of a man bringing his boat in. Not wanting to attract undue attention, he forced himself to his feet.

But he wasn't fast enough.

"I say, are you alright?" the man called as he prepared to jump onto the dock and lead his boat in.

Callen had just started to reply, "yeah, fi-," when the sight of the man looking with wide eyes over his shoulder had him turning around as well.

Jenny was coming down the dock fast. Dragging rather than pulling her trolley bag behind her.

A stocky man followed closely behind.

Gaining on her by the second.

She didn't need to look behind her to know that her tail was closing in. He'd kept his distance for the past few hours, but now he had no choice but to show himself. Relief sluiced through her as she saw Callen raise himself to his feet – but it was the sight of the sailboat which spiked her adrenaline.

It was a relatively small boat. Twenty-two feet. Maybe even twenty-four. Single mast, with a sail which was most likely electrically-operated. Enough for their purposes. She didn't have enough experience to tell whether the motor was connected to the tiller, but she thought not. And if that was the case, hand steering was going to be necessary. Something further complicated by the fact that the rise of the cabin in front of the motor was going to make it difficult to see forward.

Whether he liked it or not, the owner was going to have to go with her.

One look as she bypassed him, and Callen understood he needed to buy her the time she needed.

By whatever means necessary.

He ambled easily into the path of the man pursuing her.

"My friend!" he drawled, as he wrapped him in an embrace worthy of a stumbling drunkard. Pulling him into an awkward dance from one side of the dock to the other.

"Jerk!" the man shouted as he tried to free himself. "Get off me!"

"Are you in trouble, ma'am?"

From the accent Jen had him pegged as an Englishman. Most likely an expatriate who had taken his boat out for a spin while the unseasonable weather permitted. She felt the barest twinge of regret over the Blahniks she was sending to the bottom of the marina as she tipped her trolley into the water, but there was no time to hesitate and certainly no time to second guess herself.

"We need to get out of here," she said as she hopped aboard.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Now!" She shouted as she reached down the side of the boat untied the aft ropes, and pulled them into it.

"Over my dead body."

Her Sig was out of its holster faster than the man could blink.

"Don't tempt me," she said as she brought it level with his head.

She tossed one look over her shoulder.

Just in time to see Callen knock the Frenchman into the water.

* * *

_**Le Havre-Antifer**_

Jethro had them both sitting down with their feet dangling over the edge, long sticks they'd picked up along the beach standing in for rods. To the untrained eye they would look as though they were fishing, but Ducky found himself wondering, again, what kind of a place had no kind of security whatsoever. Then again, he assumed that was probably the reason the operative had chosen this particular spot in the first place.

He shook his head in frustration as he looked over at Jethro.

The last communication with Jenny had been an unmitigated disaster.

Jethro had ordered her to call Decker, and she'd merely told him to lie low because help was on its way – before hanging up.

Ducky debated taking him to task again about his attitude. But watching him now, taking his anger out on the water as he skimmed pebbles viciously across its surface, he decided it was better to hold his peace.

* * *

_**On board the 'Breaking Wind' ..**_

Despite the circumstances, Jen was enjoying the sensations of the wind whipping her hair around her face, the undulation of the boat on the waves, and the way it responded to its owner.

Although she was facing forward, she was very aware that he was watching her with the glaze of fascination in his eyes. A smile here, an innuendo there, a discreet touch or two. It hadn't taken her long to disarm him of his fear and hostility. She forgot, on occasion, how susceptible men were to her particular brand of charm. Not to mention that they found it hard to resist a damsel in distress. Even if said damsel had resorted to threats of violence. She hadn't told him much beyond the fact that she was an undercover agent in need of reliable help - but it had done the trick. Perhaps he fancied her some kind of female James Bond, she thought to herself with a smile.

Or maybe this was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to him.

Now all she had to do was break the news that he and his boat would be crossing the English Channel.

"Douglas ..." she started sweetly.

* * *

_**Le Havre-Antifer, some time later ..**_

"Duck!"

"Ho .." The medical examiner's head snapped up from his chest.

"Incoming," Gibbs said as he got to his feet.

As the boat drew closer Ducky's eyes widened at the sight of Jenny on the bow.

"Well it can't be sailing itself," he said in disbelief as he saw Gibbs' jaw tense. "Did she _commandeer_ the boat?"

Gibbs didn't deign to respond.

Ducky realized all of a sudden that he'd had no idea she was coming herself, and he was suddenly ridiculously grateful that there was a fourth person on board.

Anything had to be better than being stuck between the two of them for an eight hour crossing.

Douglas brought the boat alongside the dock; dropping the sails at the last minute to allow the boat's momentum to pull them even with the two people waiting.

He nodded at Jen to throw a rope to one of them, and concentrated on keeping the engine running so that they could make a quick turn about and return to the open water.

Gibbs threw his kit bag on board and was just about to hop on after it when Ducky's voice alerted him that something was wrong.

"Jethro, we've got company .."

A silver car glinted in the pale sunlight as it raced down the road towards the docks.

By Gibbs' estimation they had two minutes, maybe three, before it reached them.

He pushed Ducky onto the boat ahead of him.

Shoving a gun into his hand before manhandling Douglas out of the way and taking his place at the wheel.

"If he moves, shoot him," he growled as he called for the boat to be pushed away from the dock. "Lets go, Jen!"

The realization that she was not on board came about three feet out.

Turning back was out of the question.

There was no stopping a boat in mid-turn and the car drew closer and closer with each passing second.

"Jen!"

"I'm not done here, Jethro."

Her voice drifted across the space between them, and did nothing to reassure him.

"The hell you're not. _Jump!_"

His voice became rough and hoarse with frustration when she didn't move - and suddenly it dawned on him that this had been her plan all along.

This was why she'd hung up on him.

She'd _intended_ to stay behind.

His eyes moved wildly between her and the car screeching to halt, but there was nothing he could do except make the most of the head start she'd given them and at least get Ducky to safety.

She wasn't sure why, but Jen knew who was standing behind her even before he spoke.

"What happened to the squawk?" she asked quietly as she tried to quell the anxiety in her stomach.

"Put it on RON."

"RON?"

"Remain Overnight."

"You can do that?"

Callahan chuckled. "I can do whatever I want. Till they get the all clear from me, that baby stays grounded. Thought you might need a ride home."

"That would be .. good." Her eyes tracked the sailboat heading out into open waters as she spoke, but her heart clearly wasn't in her words.

"We need to get out of here, Jenny." She let him take her gently by the elbow and guide her to the car. "Where to?" he asked when she was settled in the front seat.

"Back to Paris."

"Callen?"

"I don't know. He knows to rendez-vous there."

Callahan nodded. "You want to head back to Naples tonight?"

"No. There's still one more thing I need to do."

It was time to use the leverage.

In the morning she'd be seeking out Minister Pellegrain himself - and this time nobody would know she was coming.

As they drove away she looked past Callahan's shoulder at the sailboat which was already just a speck in the distance.

She couldn't imagine what Jethro was thinking right now.

Of the situation.

Of her.

She was unnerved by the thought that the fallout was going to be immense, but she had made her choice and there was no going back.

She still had a job to do - and she intended to focus on that until she got the charges dropped.

Failure was simply not an option.

With that thought on her brain she reached into her suit pocket for her phone.

Decker picked up on the first ring.

* * *

**Author's note:**

And that, as they say, is that.

Except that there will be fallout.

I'll start posting _that_ story later today.


End file.
